


Not the One For Me

by RogueBelle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angry Sex, Bloodplay, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rating: NC17, Sexual Content, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-25
Updated: 2011-05-25
Packaged: 2017-10-19 18:30:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/203960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueBelle/pseuds/RogueBelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bella and Rodolphus have one of their lovers' spats</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not the One For Me

When he rises from the bed in irritation, she's still languid with the sex-haze, stretching her arms up and curling her lips in a half-smirk, half-smile. "Don’t be such a child, Rodolphus—"

"Ah, there's the way to win a man's affections," he snaps as he gathers his discarded clothing, more pique in his voice than he'd like to show. "But then, _charm_ was never your strongest suit, was it, _mia Bella_?" With a meaningful glance at her thighs, still relaxed, still open and bathed with the warmth of the afternoon sun, he adds, "You've only ever had one enticement to offer."

Her mood changes in less time than it takes a wandering cloud to dim the light through the window, casting the entire room in sudden shadow. "Go, then!" she shouts, sitting bolt upright, all the supine lethargy shocked into brittle severity. "But don't expect to come back if you do! You'll have to go crawling to one of your waifish little tarts!"

But Rodolphus is unperturbed, and smiles facetiously as he fastens his robes. "My dearest little harlot, don't think for a moment I'll be lonely for want of your attention. Miss Wilkes would, I'm sure, be more than pleased to—"

He has to stop talking to dart out of the way of the lamp that's just been hurled at him. It hits the mirror, and both shatter. The silence that follows is broken only by the tinkling of glass that falls belatedly, sliding from the starburst inside the frame and leaving the black matte behind. The sun, guessing its cue and returning too soon, or perhaps hoping to ameliorate the situation, fills the room with yellow warmth again, making the glass shards sparkle encouragingly. Then, as Rodolphus straightens and Bellatrix slides off of the bed, standing, they both begin to yell at once.

"Do _not_ speak of her to me—"

"You bloody amazing bitch, do you have even the slightest—"

"That worthless tramp, how you can—"

"Any idea of decorum, even the slightest notion of how a woman should—"

"Oh, don't speak to me of how a woman should, if I behaved like a—"

"Bloody whore, you're not worth the trouble it takes to get my robes off—"

"Like one of those frigid cows, you're lucky your cock doesn't get frostbite each time you fuck—"

"I swear, Bellatrix, this is it, no more of this insanity—"

"That brainless twat, how you could even _think_ to put up with—"

"Little slut, if you had any control over that temper, you might be _married_ by now, and not rapidly on your way to spinsterhood!"

As she reaches for another lamp, or maybe a vase, he Apparates away, not caring to stay long enough to find out which ornament she's diving for, and certainly not wanting to linger until she finds her wand. He reappears in his own room, at Areles Hall, and storms back and forth for several minutes. _'Bloody bint, who she thinks she is, how she dares, that temper!'_

In Ebony Manor, Bellatrix's thoughts are not terribly original. _'Arrogant bastard, who he thinks he is, how he dares, treating me like one of his common tarts!'_

After a few minutes' raging, Bellatrix pulls on a short dressing robe and retrieves her wand from the nightstand. A scowl still set deeply on her face, she sets to righting the room: making the bed with one flick of the hawthorn, freshening the air with another, then turning her attention to the broken items. She only has time to _Reparo_ the lamp, however, before she hears a faint pop! behind her.

As soon as she turns around, Rodolphus' hands are at her shoulders, half-shaking, half-embracing her. His mouth descends to hers, still angry, but possessive now, rather than disavowing. Her wand falls from her grip, clattering next to the newly-repaired lamp. She nips at his lower lip and tastes blood, feels his short nails scratch at her skin as he shoves cool fabric away from her shoulders. Her own fingers tear first at the belt of her robe, to throw it off and free her body to him again, then at his, desperate to feel his skin against hers, his heat melding to hers.

Teeth plucking at her ear, her neck, his hands grip around her buttocks and lift her up onto the vanity, forcing her back against the shattered mirror. Bellatrix gasps when the slivers prick against her spine, but when she shoves at him in furious protest, his hand connects sharply with the side of her face, twice, once from each side. While her jaw is still throbbing with the blossom of pain, his fingers tangle in her temple-locks, and he knocks her head back, hard enough to create another starburst on the reflection.

Rodolphus takes no time for their usual games, their accustomed teasings and provocations, but seizes her thighs and pulls them wide, slamming his cock deep in her with the first thrust, not caring to check if she's ready. Not that it matters; her cunt is slickened and hot, and has been since his first bruising kiss. Her mouth finds his throat and she vents her savagery there, marking him up and down, little blood-spots left with each of her shudders. Each time he drives into her, grunting with unrestrained brutality, she feels the shards cutting her skin, and in retaliation, she claws at his chest, ripping her nails down his sternum, drawing sharp circles around his nipples. His hands at her hips press tighter, where his fingers will surely leave marks visible for days.

Her breath catches in her throat as she feels herself building to a climax, and to coax it along, she tightens her muscles around him, shivering to feel him larger, closer. Rodolphus twitches in pleasure then, too, thrilling to feel her cunt so tight, but he raises a hand to smack her in the jaw again, growling, "I know what you're trying. Not yet, you little whore."

Bellatrix fairly hisses in response, then gives an angry feline yowl when he grabs both her hands and slams them, too, against the mirror. More little sparks of silvery glass fall around them, and Bellatrix locks her ankles around his waist, breathlessly urging him, "Harder, Rodolphus... not afraid... going to hurt me... are you?" He can't help a small laugh finding its way into his replying snarl, and his fingers close around her wrists until the ends of her fingers begin to tingle. Bellatrix writhes, aching for release. " _Fuck_ , Rodolphus... if you don't..."

"Ask nicely," his low voice rumbles. Bellatrix sets her jaw firmly, refusing to beg, and arches her back against him, away from the mirror. In the reflection, Rodolphus glimpses the rivulets of blood trickling down her skin, the flecks and lines of glimmer embedded in her flesh, and starts to lose control. He drops his head, his forehead touching hers, and looks down to where their bodies join, his swollen cock sheathing itself again and again, faster and faster as he approaches the brink. One hand releases her wrist, and she immediately lets that hand fall around his shoulder, twining in the hair at the nape of his neck and pulling. His own fingers slide between them, and just before he feels the hot spurt gush forth, he finds her clit and gives it a vicious twist. Bellatrix shudders violently, crying out with the seizure of ecstatic agony wracking her body. Rodolphus clutches at her as his own orgasm rides out, buried completely in the clenching, spasming heat of her. As they both start to calm, muscles relaxing, the tension falling from them, his lips find hers in a careless kiss, and then their heads fall in exhaustion to each others' shoulders.

They stay like that, locked in sweat and blood, for a long moment, heaving to regain control of their lungs, before Bellatrix brings her lips to his ear and murmurs, "I knew you'd be back."

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this work, please check out [my blog](http://cassmorriswrites.com)! I also write original fiction, and my debut novel will be out January 2018.


End file.
